


everything i have is yours

by daydreamsago



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Established Relationship, Hank is soft for Connor, M/M, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Present Tense, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-06 12:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15886140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamsago/pseuds/daydreamsago
Summary: It’s a rainy day, they spend it inside listening to Hank’s record collection together. Connor discovers that old music is something like pure magic.





	everything i have is yours

**Author's Note:**

> hankcon has pretty much taken over my life, safe to say. i couldn’t help but project my love of old music onto them.
> 
> i never write in present tense, but i wanted to try. let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!

It’s early in the morning, and it’s raining. Pouring, in fact: Detroit’s busy streets laden with excess water. Hank’s sitting by the kitchen window, drinking his coffee and thinking about how glad he is that he and Connor don’t have to work today. He feels relaxed, like all the stresses of life are a million miles away. Everything feels calm and undisturbed, a stark contrast to how things have been lately.

His coffee tastes different now, since Connor urged him to replace his usual half and half with coconut milk—for his health, of course. It’s not bad, actually. He used to find Connor’s extensive concern for his wellbeing annoying, but he’s beginning to find it endearing. He means well, there’s no denying it.

He's been sleeping better ever since Connor started joining him in his bed a few weeks ago. Hank enjoys his comforting warmth, and the gentle whirring sounds he occasionally makes in stasis. Holding him close at night calms them both, makes them feel safe, wanted, and _loved_. Hank wouldn't trade it for the world, wouldn't trade Connor for anything in the world. He knows the android feels the same; he looks at him as if he put the stars in the sky.

When Hank thinks back to his life before, he trembles. He had been a shell of the person he was before the accident. Bitter, remorseful, depressed beyond comprehension. He had nothing keeping him around; his life slipping away more and more with each day he awoke. But things had changed once Connor came around, and the android revolution began. He gained a reason to sober up and turn his life around.

Things got better.

He owes his life to Connor, and so he shares it with him every day. After the revolution, he invited the newly deviant android to live with him, to which he happily accepted. Hank remembered how overjoyed he had felt since he now had someone else to spend his time with, someone to give his all to for the first time in many years. Everything he had had become Connor’s too, their lives intertwining from that day forward.

Hank's lost in his thoughts, until he hears the soft patter of footsteps coming down the hall, followed by the eager sound of paws hitting the floor. He smiles, heartbeat thrumming in his chest; still alive. Very much alive.

And then Connor’s standing in front of him, his hair tousled from sleep. He’s wearing one of Hank’s old band shirts from years passed—worn and soft after hundreds of washes. He looks angelic in the dim lighting, causing Hank’s heart to swell. How in the hell did he get so lucky?

“Morning, Hank,” he says, peacefulness evident in his expression. He must have rested well.

Hank wraps his hands around the warm mug he’s holding. “Morning, Con. You sleep good?” he asks.

Connor grins. “Great, I think I’m getting better at shutting my systems down at night.”

”I told you sleeping is the easiest human thing you can do.”

Sumo’s next to Connor, eagerly eyeing his empty dish on the floor. He notices, grabbing the bag and pouring food into it. He nudges his hand, and Connor bends down to stroke the dog’s thick fur. Hank admires the sight from his seat by the window.

When Connor’s finished making a big fuss over Sumo, he sits down at the table, across from Hank. He looks out the window, and checks the weather quick. “It’s supposed to rain throughout the entire day. What should we do, since we’re off?”

Hank emits a soft laugh. “Nothing. I know that’s hard for you to wrap your computer brain around, but some days, you just have to do nothing.”

Connor briefly listens to the rain hitting the roof, and finds the sound to be therapeutic. “But... how does one do _nothing?_ Surely you’re doing something, like breathing, and being alive, you know?”

“It’s not literal, it’s an expression. Want me to show you how I do nothing?” Hank asks, getting up to put his empty mug in the sink.

Curiously, Connor nods his head. He may feel human, but there’s still some things he doesn’t understand entirely. And he knows it will take some time, so he doesn’t worry. He’s always learning and improving.

He follows Hank down the hallway, back to their bedroom. He watches with intent as Hank flips through the crate full of records on the floor next to the dresser. He stops at one Connor’s never heard before, pulling it out of the alphabetized collection.

Connor scans the cover as Hank’s pulling the record out of its sleeve and putting it on the turntable. It’s titled _Nice Girls Don’t Stay For Breakfast_ , and the woman on the cover is Julie London. The search also reveals it was recorded in 1966, and released in 1967.

Hank smiles at him, and he places the needle down on the aged record. “This one belonged to my grandmother.”

There’s crackling, and a pretty song begins. Hank reaches out to take Connor’s hand. “Lay with me,” he says.

Connor doesn’t think he’d ever say no to that. “Okay.”

They climb back in bed, and it’s like the rest of the world has melted away. Hank covers the two with the comforter; warmth surrounding them instantly. Connor curls into him, enjoying being close to his lover.

Hank holds him tight, so that he would feel all the love he deserves. “This is my idea of doing nothing. No worrying about anything, just... rest. Nothing else matters right now.”

”I understand it now. This feels good,” Connor admits. “I don’t feel like I have to  care about anything else.”

The room goes quiet, save for the music playing and the steady stream of rain coming down outside. Nothing is said for a long while—Hank just clutches Connor’s waist, and rubs circles into the small of his back. Connor feels the warmest he’s ever felt, in regards to both his temperature and his mood. All else had gone away, all the stresses of work and life in general, leaving only peace, and of course: love.

Connor reaches up to run his fingers through Hank’s hair; something he’s grown quite fond of doing recently. He loves to touch him, to feel him and know he’s real. Sometimes, he remembers the time before he went deviant: his mind palace, obsession with the mission, and Amanda. All of that was only an illusion, due to his programming. He likes to remind himself that he’s not like he was back then. Everything is different now, he has stability, and someone who cares endlessly for him.

He has a home, a place to belong. His LED spins blue, glowing amid the darkness of the bedroom.

“What’re you thinking about?” Hank asks, breaking the near silence.

Connor blushes, though it’s too dark to see. “I’m thinking about how lucky I am, how good things are now.”

That warms Hank’s heart. He never dreamt of being this soft; before Connor, he was hardened out completely, colder than an arctic storm. All it took was one RK800 to melt him, and make him tender again. “I’m glad you’re happy, Con.”

“You’re happy too,” he replies, knowing the reason why. “You haven’t been depressed in months.”

“Damn android knows my life story,” he jokes playfully. Hank presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “You’re right.”

A new song begins, a soft acoustic guitar filling the room. Connor likes the sound, so he listens as the lyrics start.

_Everything I have is yours,_

_you're a part of me_

_Everything I have is yours,_

_my destiny_

Connor downloads the song immediately.

_I would gladly give the sun to you,_

_if the sun were only mine_

_I would gladly give the earth to you,_

_and the stars that shine_

He thinks it’s beautiful. The lyrics fit he and Hank’s relationship well, and he reckons that it’s his favorite song now.

“I like this song,” he says into Hank’s shoulder. He feels him smile. “It’s... very sweet.”

“You know, for a while, I hated love songs,” Hank confesses, feeling vulnerable and _liking_ it. “But I don’t anymore, because I love you.”

Connor knows his face is tinted blue, he can feel it. _Love:_ the word humans throw around so carelessly. But he knows that Hank only uses it when he means to, giving it the sacred power it deserves.

”I love you, too.” He wasn’t designed to love, to feel such affection for anyone. But he isn’t a machine, not anymore. He feels just as much as any human can.

_Everything I have is yours,_

_my life, my all_

The song ends, yet the moment does not. Connor feels so much, and has plenty to say about it. The more time he spends with Hank, the more human he feels. It’s wondrous.

“Why is old music so...” he trails off, thinking. “Passionate? The singers always sing with a lot of emotion, and the songs are usually about love.”

Hank wonders about that too. “I don’t know, I guess people were different back then. You really like old stuff, don’t you?”

Connor nods against Hank. “Yeah. There’s just something about it. It’s magical, in a way.”

Hank laughs. He loves this man so much. “Well, I have plenty of old records for you to listen to.”

They stay tangled in each other until the record needs to be flipped, but neither get up to flip it. They fall asleep together, deeply relaxed, and even more deeply in love.


End file.
